At the cemetry
by Zirkonia
Summary: The war is over and nothing is left from the friendship of the golden trio. So one evening she is visiting the victims of the war and meets one she never expected.


It was bitter cold. Snow covered the surrounding treetops, pushing down the arms heavily.

Wind whipped around the Snowflakes, glowed her cheeks and ears with cold.

Her hands were being in her coat pocket, red and numb.

Her eyes burned, which was less weather conditional though.

The grave was still untouched; the centi-meters high, white Splendor twinkled in the weak sun.

She had brought candles with her.

One for every casualty.

Hermione didn´t notice the first hot tears running down her burning cheek and stiffening slowly like ice.

Her face was like a mask, immovable. Painful. Here were they lying. Her friends. Her enemies. Alone under the cold ceiling of snow.

People, she had known, she had wanted to know.

Guessed into oblivion.

It had been they, who influenced the battle of Hogwarts so much. Died, so that she could survive.

Her and much more.

Was the casualty justified?

Wanted she live, if so much other people gave her life? She read the engraved names onto the stone of respect.

A suppressed sobs escaped her throat. Unnecessary, then nobody heard her here.

She was alone.

Nobody would search her; nobody would find her at all.

So she thought at all events.

She turned her head abrupt, when she heard crunching the snow.

There stand someone. Large, powerful, veiled in black.

Almost dangerous seemed the shape, if he hadn´t such a peculiar aura.

And she knew with safety, that there was no enemy. Nobody who wanted her bad.

She turned again, fixed the grave further on this deserted cemetery.

She heard the footsteps that brought him near to her.

It was a self-confident walk, majestic and threatens the same time.

She knew him, knew who he was.

And she didn´t run, didn´t take another way, stand still. Here in front of him. Defenseless.

The wall around her was broken down and she still hadn´t enough power to straighten it up.

Now he was right beside her. Not talking for a long time.

Looked the grave for a long time, looked the snow. The place. Her.

Saw the tiniest ice crystals on her cheeks, which were her tears once.

"Granger." He broke the silence. His voice, fragile and soft.

She turned her head, searching his face, but she couldn´t see it, hidden under the black hood of his coat.

"Malfoy." Resigned. No feeling in her voice.

"I´m sorry." It was hard for him to bring these word above his lips, but they were veracious and full of

Repentance. A small smile spread on Hermiones face.

The girl knew for what this words were, knew he meant it, knew that it costs much strength of him.

And she knew that she forgave him.

She looked at him. "You were a kid."

"I was a traitor." Deep and velvet his voice. Full of grief.

"You were forced to."

"I was full of prejudices."

"So you were growing up."

"I am a Malfoy."

"So you were born."

He sighed. "You get for all my Offences an excuse. Why?"

Hermione looked in his face veiled of darkness.

"As said, you were a kid."

" How can you forgive me? I don´t understand. After all I did to you."

Hermione ignored the cold when she put down the hood from the head of the Slytherin.

The platinum blond hair hung windswept in his beautiful face. His silver-gray eyes shone.

He stands in front of her, a large angel, bright but fractured.

"The time hasn´t gone without trace over at me, either." She took one of his hair strands between her fingers, which had fallen impudent in his eyes, and put it behind his ear.

He winced, whether the touch of her could skin. Suddenly his mask caved in.

She saw the true Malfoy. Vulnerable and alone. In fear and full of longing for pardon.

How could she refusing the answer? How could she reject him ever?

How could she trusting to find new hope?

But Hermione was a Gryffindor and she risked a lot by forgiving him.

"You are not my enemy any more. You are all what remained."

"You have Potter and Weasley." Malfoy shook his head and turned away.

Wind whipped the hair in his face and it was hopeless to capture and controlling again.

"I´ve seen too much in this time. To many things I want to forget. To many things which destroyed the life I knew before. The war was only a part of it. I never felt free."

"You terminated them your friendship.", he found out without concealing that he wasn´t unconditional unhappy about it.

Hermione threw him a knowing glance.

"No. Friendship is the only thing I could offer them. I will live my life how I think it would be right.", she answered.

"And what you think is right?", he asked.

Dumb he fixed the grave without seeing it really. He waited for Granger´s answer.

"To forget . I´ve seen who you are. I´ve seen what you are capable of.

And I´ve seen that you aren´t bad, that you´re not like your father."

He smiled a little compulsive. "I´m more than you think."

"I still have found this out."

He turned, looked in her eyes, warmth and confidence glowering in his own.

"But I want to try."

"How?" He was confused and skeptical.

"You say it me.", she asked and went on a further step to him.

"Granger." Malfoy was serious again. His gaze was distant.

But she didn´t deter, not after all she had seen.

"Yes."

"I am a Malfoy."

She smirked. "That's true."

"I am a Slytherin."

"Because of this."

"I am a Traitor as you know."

"You were this."

"I am proud."

"You said that already."

"And do you nevertheless want me?"

She laughed. Threw her bushy hair behind her shoulder, fixed his eyes.

"Who said that?" Cheeky and happy. Suddenly.

"I´m sure." A self-assured smirk stole onto his corner of mouth.

"Then we cleared all things, didn´t we?" Granger said.

"I think so." He nodded.

"And why for gods' sake I must freeze?"

She was outrage. Clearly.

And he was the most enviable man in the world when he hugged her and kissend her on her lips.

Hy, lovely Readers.

This is one text I translated short time before.

Because I am Austrian I am not very good in Grammar.

Hope you forgive my mistakes and I wish you enjoyed the story about my favourite pair.

Please review your Opinion.

Hp: The word repetition isn´t intend, because in German are more meanings of words than in English.


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